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with an appetite. When fhe found that the could no longer restrain her grief, but her tears were gufhing out, fhe would leave the room, and having given vent to her paffion, return again with dry eyes and a ferene countenance, as if fhe had left her forrow behind her at the door of the chamber.

Camillus Scribonianus, the governor of Dalmatia, having taken up arms againft Claudius, Pætus joined himself to his party, and was foon after taken prifoner, and brought to Rome. When the guards were going to put him on board the fhip, ArB 2

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ria befought them that she might be permitted to go with him.Certainly,' faid she, you cannot refuse a man of confular dignity, as he is, a few attendants to wait upon him;but if you will take me, I alone will perform their office.' This favour, however, was refufed upon which the hired a small fishing-veffel, and boldly ventured to follow the thip.

Returning to Rome, Arria met the wife of Scribonianus in the emperor's palace, who preffing her to discover all that the knew of the infurrection, what,'

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vice, who faw thy husband 'murdered in thy very arms, • and yet furviveft him?' Pætus being condemned to die, Arria formed a deliberate refolution to fhare his fate, and made no fecret of her intention. Thrafea, who married her daughter, attempting attempting to diffuade her from her purpose, among other arguments which he used, faid to her, Would

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you then, if my life were to be taken from me, advise your daughter to die with me?'Moft certainly I would,' fhe replid, if he had lived as long B 3

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and in as much harmony with

you, as I have lived with Pæ'tus.'

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Perfifting in her determination, fhe found means to provide herself with a dagger; and one day, when the observed a more than ufual gloom on the countenance of Pætus, and perceived that death, by the hand of the executioner appeared to him more terrible than in the field of glory-perhaps too, fenfible that it was chiefly for her fake that he wished to live-fhe drew the dagger from her fide, and ftabbed herself before his eyes. Then inftantly plucking

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the weapon from her breast, she presented it to her husband, faying, My Pætus, it is not pain

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When from her breaft chafte Arria fnatch'd

the fword,

And gave the deathful weapon to her lord; My wound, fhe faid, believe me, does not

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But thine, alone, my Pætus, pains my heart.

Character of Cardinal Wolfey..

CATHARINE and CROMWELL.

CROM. HOW

CATH. O Cromwell, fick to death:

My legs like loaded branches bow to th' carth,

Willing to leave their burden: reach a chair

So

Ow does your grace?

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